God's Grace "on a hot tin roof"
We've all experienced God's grace, whether we call it that, or whether we have the intuition to recognize its rendition as that.
Scanning back, I can visualize many "breaks" which favored me that I have long since kept secret, to myself. That I share them with you, now, Dear Reader, is further testament to the Grace of God.
I will share just one of my many, exceedingly vast, and deep quiver--larder--of God's acts of beneficent grace toward me. This one involves my beloved alma mater, Howard University in Washington. D.C. This happy one occurred over the "Christmas Break" my Freshman year, 1969.
Unbeknown to me, our American literature professor, Mrs. Newman, had assigned the play "Cat on the Hot Tin Roof " by Tennessee Williams, to be read over the holidays and to be tested upon, when we returned.
I am not sure, now, how I missed that assignment, unless I skipped her class to get an earlier flight back home to St. Louis, Missouri to family, food, fun, friends, and to my sorely-missed girlfriend!
However I missed it, be assured that I was shocked, stupefied, when she started passing out the essay examination the very first thing at the recommencement of class. My surrounding classmates looked at me with that "What? You didn't know" expression after I verbalized my horror and dread!
Thinking back, I readily recalled how I had been somewhat obstreperous in Mrs. Newman's class, having already read many of the books assigned, and items assigned, then, engaging her in nuanced extrapolations, therein. She always got the better of me, being the teacher, but I was rising up ever higher, so I had thought!
To top it all off, Mrs. Newman was a white woman who was married to a black man, and teaching at a black university. My emergent, yet puerile, yea, juvenile, black nationalist consciousness bristled at all of these things, internally.
Thus, calling on all the creative juices that I could muster, I wrote as the opening line of my essay's answer to her "surprise" test:
"Dear Mrs. Newman, I am 'The Cat on the Hot Tin Roof.'"
I then went on to explain the fact that I had not read the play, nor known of the need to read the play, in my rush to get home for Christmas. I also apologized to her for the many occasions that I had unduly extended her classroom discussions into unassigned areas by my impassioned, insatiable curiosity and interests in the subject matter of her fascinating class.
I also stated that I was the first person in my immediate family to attend college, indeed , the great "Capstone of Negro Education," Howard University, and that I would deem it to be a signal honor, if she would look beyond my faults, in this instance, and evaluate my merits as a man, as her student, and as a writer.
I also told her that I did not hold her race against her ; that I had many good white teachers in high school and junior high school; that my blackness was based in black love, not in white hatred.
Thinking that I had flunked that exam and that course, imagine my joy, Dear Reader, when she returned our papers, and I discovered that I had been awarded an "A+" with notes commending my resourcefulness and candor by my American literature teacher, Mrs. Newman, whose course I also later aced!
"Cat on the Hot Tin Roof," indeed!
Nothing but God's Grace!
Sunday, June 14, 2015
GOD'S GRACE "ON A HOT TIN ROOF"
God's Grace "on a hot tin roof"
We've all experienced God's grace, whether we call it that, or whether we have the intuition to recognize its rendition as that.
Scanning back, I can visualize many "breaks" which favored me that I have long since kept secret, to myself. That I share them with you, now, Dear Reader, is further testament to the Grace of God.
I will share just one of my many, exceedingly vast, and deep quiver--larder--of God's acts of beneficent grace toward me. This one involves my beloved alma mater, Howard University in Washington. D.C. This happy one occurred over the "Christmas Break" my Freshman year, 1969.
Unbeknown to me, our American literature professor, Mrs. Newman, had assigned the play "Cat on the Hot Tin Roof " by Tennessee Williams, to be read over the holidays and to be tested upon, when we returned.
I am not sure, now, how I missed that assignment, unless I skipped her class to get an earlier flight back home to St. Louis, Missouri to family, food, fun, friends, and to my sorely-missed girlfriend!
However I missed it, be assured that I was shocked, stupefied, when she started passing out the essay examination the very first thing at the recommencement of class. My surrounding classmates looked at me with that "What? You didn't know" expression after I verbalized my horror and dread!
Thinking back, I readily recalled how I had been somewhat obstreperous in Mrs. Newman's class, having already read many of the books assigned, and items assigned, then, engaging her in nuanced extrapolations, therein. She always got the better of me, being the teacher, but I was rising up ever higher, so I had thought!
To top it all off, Mrs. Newman was a white woman who was married to a black man, and teaching at a black university. My emergent, yet puerile, yea, juvenile, black nationalist consciousness bristled at all of these things, internally.
Thus, calling on all the creative juices that I could muster, I wrote as the opening line of my essay's answer to her "surprise" test:
"Dear Mrs. Newman, I am 'The Cat on the Hot Tin Roof.'"
I then went on to explain the fact that I had not read the play, nor known of the need to read the play, in my rush to get home for Christmas. I also apologized to her for the many occasions that I had unduly extended her classroom discussions into unassigned areas by my impassioned, insatiable curiosity and interests in the subject matter of her fascinating class.
I also stated that I was the first person in my immediate family to attend college, indeed , the great "Capstone of Negro Education," Howard University, and that I would deem it to be a signal honor, if she would look beyond my faults, in this instance, and evaluate my merits as a man, as her student, and as a writer.
I also told her that I did not hold her race against her ; that I had many good white teachers in high school and junior high school; that my blackness was based in black love, not in white hatred.
Thinking that I had flunked that exam and that course, imagine my joy, Dear Reader, when she returned our papers, and I discovered that I had been awarded an "A+" with notes commending my resourcefulness and candor by my American literature teacher, Mrs. Newman, whose course I also later aced!
"Cat on the Hot Tin Roof," indeed!
Nothing but God's Grace!